


Wrapped Around Your Finger

by lunaseemoony



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Babysitting, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 06:16:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4380419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaseemoony/pseuds/lunaseemoony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose steps into a machine that temporarily regresses her to her 9 month old self, leaving both Rose and the Doctor confused and scared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrapped Around Your Finger

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet is for allegoricalrose's prompt
> 
> Note: While I know it’s canon that the Doctor is fluent in Baby, for the humor of this story I’ve decided that this version of Ten isn’t.

 

“Please don’t wee on my coat. Please don’t wee on my coat. Please, please, _please_ don’t wee on my coat,” the Doctor chanted over and over while dashing back to the TARDIS. “You know Janis Joplin gave me this coat. I can’t launder it very easily. So if you wee on it, it’s going to smell like baby wee for years. I can’t have that,” he panted.

What else was the Doctor to do? Rose had no way of knowing the archway she’d stepped through was meant for the elderly. It certainly did its job of taking twenty years off her life. And though the effects were temporary, the deed was still done. The corporation responsible for creating the machine was none too pleased, however, with his thorough job of destroying it. They sent armed guards after the Doctor and Rose. So just like usual, they were running for their lives back to the TARDIS. There was no time to grab Rose’s clothes. And even if he did, they wouldn’t fit her anyway.

Rose was none too pleased with her plight, and spent the entire time they ran back to the TARDIS wailing at the Doctor’s chest. But if the Doctor thought she was angry, she was ready to throw down the entire TARDIS when he fitted her into a safety seat the ship had fabricated for her for the ride into the Vortex. There was no cutting him any slack for wanting her safe. The moment he clicked her in her squalling doubled in volume, turning her pudgy face bright pink. Funnily enough, the TARDIS’s engines kicking in seemed to soothe her a little, so during the flight at least his ears had a moment’s rest.

“Alright Rose, see? Told you it would only be for a minute,” the Doctor cooed at his baby companion while unbuckling her. His coat that he’d swaddled her in was damp when he brought her to his chest. “Oh, no… no no no… oh Rose, how could you? I told you not to wee on my coat!”

The calm that the TARDIS had worked at began to ripple away from Rose’s face the instant he raised his voice. He hadn’t even realized he’d done it until her chin wrinkle and her mouth turn to a blubbering frown. She already had him with that, just before a flood of tears tore at him. She sniffed a few times before returning to the cry that she’d tortured him with earlier. Only this time it was completely his fault.

“Oh, Rose, please don’t cry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it, okay?” he pleaded, and brought her up for a hug, but she pushed herself off of him and writhed in her swaddle, trying to get out of his arms. “Come on, I’m not that bad. I’ve at least got to get you a nappy and some clean clothes, okay?”

He paused. Had he ever even had a baby aboard the TARDIS? He wouldn’t have a reason for keeping any baby things. Rassilon help him if he had to pop into a store with a naked and nappy-less Rose to buy a whole assortment of baby supplies to last them through however long she remained a baby. The effects were temporary, but the machinery causing Rose’s state was meant for a species that wasn’t strictly human. It would affect her differently. His only hope was the TARDIS considering a passing thought he’d had recently.

Thank Rassilon she did. A monitor trilled on the console and popped up a coordinate on the TARDIS’s schematics. The Doctor kissed the monitor and dashed down a corridor in the direction of the nursery. He couldn’t be certain if the TARDIS was being funny with how fully stocked this nursery was, or if perhaps she was laying on a few hints. Maybe both. But he was all too thankful. And maybe the soft pastel coral walls and the starry ceiling might help calm Rose down, he hoped. The first order of business was getting his tiny companion in a nappy. And it would have been great if she agreed with this assessment. The Doctor was no stranger to the task, but that didn’t make it any easier.

“Oh now that’s not fair. I’m trying to help,” the Doctor complained at Rose’s slippery kicking legs that were nearly impossible to catch. And once he did weave her ankles between his fingers in a hold he thought was pretty secure, she flopped over and freed herself. “Where are you going? You realize it’s a three foot drop to the floor.” Rose peered over the edge, almost as if calculating her odds. “Where are you even going to go starkers anyway, hm?” He flopped Rose back over and formed a tighter grip around her ankles. She was none too pleased with this, and made certain that was known. “You’re mad because I outfoxed you. D'you honestly think I’m enjoying this? I didn’t wake up this morning expecting to be wiping your bum, I’ll say that.”

Rose wasn’t about to make his job easy, and wiggled about the entire time while whining at him. Just when he thought he was in the clear, walking away from the table with a fresh cloth in hand he learned that using it on Rose’s face was tantamount to murder. Getting Rose into some clothes involved chasing her around the room and pulling her out from under a crib, not to mention wrestling the writhing baby  _into_ the clothes. He opted for a dress after all the trouble she put him through. Some day he would find all of this rather comical. After a long while. Not long after he’d managed this, Rose returned to her routine of frustrated crying.

“Rose…” the Doctor sighed. “I don’t know how to do all this. Are you hungry? Tired? I’m exhausted and we’ve barely done anything. I’ll give you chips. D'you want chips? Can you even eat chips yet? I’ll mash them up if I need to. Just please stop crying, alright?”

He scooped her up into his arms and sat her on his hip. He wouldn’t deny baby Rose her cuteness. It had to guarantee her survival, with her mother growing Rose up on her own. The Doctor had a much deeper respect for Jackie than he ever did before. Whether he’d ever tell her as much remained to be seen. He could even live with Rose ruining his tie by chewing on it. At least when she had it in her mouth, soaking it in Rose drool, she was marginally quiet. Well, that is until he set her down on the floor in the galley.

“Oh, Rose… I can’t do this with just one hand,” the Doctor reasoned to a pair of teary doe eyes. “Give me just a few minutes, alright? I’ll even make you a bottle. And then I’m all yours.”

Rose wouldn’t be convinced of this, and crawled after him as he fetched things around the galley, making certain he was was aware of her malcontent by whining after him. When he disappeared into the pantry for a moment she burst into tears. Surely the independent Rose that he knew wasn’t really like this as a baby. Jackie would have lost her mind. When he stopped in front of the microwave and bottle warmer (bless his TARDIS), Rose pulled herself up on his pant leg and held herself there, babbling at him in her continual whine of complaint until he looked down at her.

“Oh alright,” the Doctor relented, and picked her up. “I’m not letting you live this one down though, just so you know.” She couldn’t be bothered by this while she found a suitable suit collar to chew on. Evidently his little companion was determined to make her mark on his clothes.

But she wouldn’t eat. No matter how he argued that mashed potatoes were much more edible than his silk tie, Rose refused to let it slip past her mouth. In fact, a good bit of it ended up being pasted onto his clothes (as he fed her from his lap because she refused to sit in a high chair). And no matter how he begged her, it was the same story with the bottle as well. It quickly got cold.

“I don’t understand,” he grumbled and rubbed his face in his palm before messing with his hair as if it might hold the answers. Even as the Doctor held her and cradled her close she still cried. Clearly she wanted to tell him something, but didn’t know how to. “What is it? I don’t even want to try putting you to bed.”

He started down the hall and while he walked he fished his sonic screwdriver out of his jacket and sent it whirring over the little pink Rose. The moment Rose saw it light up she squealed and giggled, reaching for it with her stubby, grainy fingers (how was potato so difficult to get off?). He was about to tell her there was no way she was getting his sonic when he saw that she’d already soaked it in drool, and was actively chewing on the light end. Even with her chin and neck soaked, gumming on his precious sonic she was still cute. Her deep chocolate eyes looked very much the same, and evidently could still get him into a lot of trouble. It was a good thing he had backups, he thought with a sigh. He pressed a safety button on the side and smiled at her. He couldn’t tell her no when she had the most vacantly blissful look spreading across her damp, pudgy face. The memory of making her cry was still tugging at his heartstrings. So although his sonic now had tiny teeth marks on it, his Rose was happy.

And then it hit him. The Doctor stopped right in front of Rose’s bedroom door and watched her blissfully chewing away at his sonic. He really was incredibly thick. When she soaked his suit collars it should have hit him. Perhaps when she wouldn’t eat. He held Rose up by her torso and brought her forehead to his lips for a little kiss.

“Your gums hurt, don’t they, eh Rose?” he cooed at her and beamed. He stepped into Rose’s bedroom and headed towards her bed. “I’ve got just the thing.” He beamed at her after setting her down on the mattress and laying next to her. “Much better than this icky metal thing, promise.“

Rose whimpered and pawed at his hands when he took his sonic away from her. She also wasn’t having any of his attempts at cuddling her close. But he ignored her protests and made a nest of his head, arms and chest around her. He stuck his tongue out at her and tickled her feet when she batted at his nose in frustration. He hushed her when he saw her lungs filling up to release a cry. And before she could protest any further, he eased a finger into the corner of her mouth.

"Now, no biting, okay? I’m trusting you on this one.”

The Doctor pressed his fingers to Rose’s gums and worked his way around until he found the culprit. He massaged the spot and watched Rose’s demeanor change in a few heartbeats. Her chubby legs fell to the bed and she leaned in to him. He had to stop what he was doing for a moment so she could crawl on top of him. He’d earned her trust, he surmised. She grabbed his hand and found the forefinger on his other hand. Maybe it tasted a bit different, milder or sweeter. At any rate she found it to her liking and let him resume rubbing her gums. They both relaxed within a few minutes, and a peaceful blanket of exhaustion began to settle over him. Rose seemed to share this sentiment and released the tiniest little yawn. The Doctor wriggled his way under her sheets and covered them both up. Her chest rose and fell in gentle puffs, and within a few minutes she was purring in her sleep like a kitten.

He took a few minutes to clasp her tiny hand in his and soothe her soft skin over his palm. He brought her up to his face so he could nuzzle her caramel down and drink in her mild scent. He sighed it into a kiss and felt his cheeks warming with the thought that she always smelled like Rose, his Rose. It was a sentiment that eased him into a deep sleep snuggled up with her on his chest.

 

* * *

 

Rose awoke in the morning curled up with the Doctor. The only thing keeping her from smacking him across the face for sneaking into her bed while was naked was finding that he was clothed. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t feel so right, too. She licked her gums and found her teeth throbbing. The Doctor looked like a complete wreck, and since he wouldn’t free her from his grasp, she nestled her head into the nook under his head and fell right back asleep.


End file.
